


Friendly Advice

by Hobbotch



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Headcanon, Post-Break Up, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 09:27:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4999534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbotch/pseuds/Hobbotch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Varric had seen it before. The weariness and worry lines she was too young to bear. The voice near tears but still too stubborn to shed them. If he asked her if she was okay, he would get that all too familiar response, “I'm fine.” They were so alike sometimes. He couldn't protect Hawke from those years of heartache, but maybe he could help the Inquisitor and Solas with some friendly advice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendly Advice

Varric paused in front of the door leading to the rotunda. He swallowed a deep breath, girding himself for what certainly would be an awkward, if not unpleasant, conversation. _Andraste's ass, why are all my friends horrible with romantic relationships_ , he thought, which of course brought Bianca to the forefront of his mind. Maybe he was just as unskilled in that area, yet here he was preparing to hand out advice. His evening with the Inquisitor had set him upon this quest. It was a battle itself just to convince her to take a few hours for herself and join him in a game of cards. Though, she had won the war truly, coercing him into playing Diamondback. Varric would never understand why her clan would prefer it over the far, far superior Wicked Grace, but he had endured, another thing the Dalish love.

Whatever had happened between her and Chuckles had changed her. She was just no fun, rarely made time for her companions, and threw her everything into running the Inquisition. It crushed him to see her return to the distant, serious elf he first met in Haven. But after a few hands, a glimmer of the real Lavellan escaped, her wicked smile and sharp tongue teased him about his third straight loss. The relief was palatable, finally a sign of hope she was recovering from her broken heart. A few hours relaxing with good friends and good drinks was the best salve for the soul Varric knew.

Nevertheless his carefully crafted night off was quickly shattered with a stupid message. A few seconds of scanning it and Lavellan was back in Inquisitor Mode, stony and defensive. She excused herself, then dragged, like a disapproving mother would, the nearby Dorian to a quiet corner of the tavern. Varric didn't hear all of the lecture, but did catch bits and pieces at the end. Namely, “Leave it be, this is between Solas and I” and Dorian's proclamation of “No one makes my friend cry”. But it was the last thing Lavellan had said to Dorian that decided this course for him. For a second she cracked. Her voice was thick and shaky as she begged him, “Dorian, please.” Dorian muttered what looked like an apology and walked away crestfallen. When the Inquisitor returned, she thanked him for the game then left, she needed to get back to work.

The weariness and worry lines she was too young to bear was a look he was too familiar with. The voice near tears but still too stubborn to shed them, one he had heard too often. If he asked her if she was okay, if she needed a shoulder to cry on, he would get the same response, “I'm fine.” They were so alike sometimes. Always ready to take on the world's problems, but unable to share her own. Dammit Hawke. He couldn't save Hawke from those years of heartache, but maybe he could save the Inquisitor.

* * *

The door groaned when he finally opened it. Solas was sitting at his desk, facing away from the door leading to the main hall. He was also all business after the breakup. Varric let out a heavy sigh and gave his friendliest, “Hey Chuckles.”

“Do you require my aide, Master Tethras?” Solas replied in his typical neutral tone.

“Nah, just dropped by for a friendly chat,” he said, making his way to the mage's desk.

“If this 'chat' is more 'friendly advice' I fear I have had more than enough,” Solas turned to face the dwarf, showing off a light purple and brown bruise covering his right eye.

 _Oh, I owe Sparkler a drink_ , he thought, suppressing his shock and slight smile. The Inquisitor's little talk with Dorian made far more sense now. Varric raised his hands in surrender, “I swear no physical advice, though I doubt I have the reach to give you another black eye.” Solas just glowered at him, never one for a good joke. “I just wanted to drop this off for you.” He placed the book he was carrying under his arm on top of the mess of papers covering the desk.

“Your Tales of the Champion? I have already read your friend Hawke's exploits,” Solas replied with a glace at the cover.

“I figured as much. It is my most popular work,” Varric preened. “But it seems you missed a few of the finer points, so I highlighted a few key passages for you. Namely those involving a broody elf that lets his past get in the way of future with the woman he loves.”

“You believe my relationship with the Inquisitor the same as Hawke and Fenris? Or what, that I simply need to get over it?” Solas bristled, venom in his tone.

 _Good_ , thought Varric, shaking his head. _He still cares._

“I'm not saying they are the same. Just that you could learn from their experiences. Fenris was stubborn and didn't talk to Hawke about the It he felt he had to end the relationship over and she let him. I love a good tragic, dramatic romance, but together they could have solved their problems, she could have helped him heal sooner. Instead they just hurt each other for years.”

His tone started to increase in urgency. “Relationships are messy and complicated and sometimes hard. Really hard but that doesn't mean you should stop trying. I've seen how you two look at each other. She loves you and I'm pretty sure you love her! Let her help you deal with whatever your It is! Let her be there for you! Because she would!” he paused, hands balled into tight fists. Surprised by how much it still hurt to think about Hawke and Fenris' rough patches, his whatever he had with Bianca. “Don't lose all those years like Hawke did.”

Solas didn't reply. Just hung his head, his hand resting lightly on the cover of the book.

“That's all I wanted to say. Do with it what you will.” Varric rubbed the back of his neck, leaving the room.


End file.
